Laughing Behind his Back to his Face
by purplefern
Summary: Making fun of Melvin in a comic was always a safe bet, since he doesn't realize that there is a joke, let alone that he's the butt of it. Well, except for the day he finally finds out. (Cross-posted from AO3)
1. Chapter 1

_A brief note on continuity, in case you care: I know that George and Harold get separated at the end of the movie, but I highly doubt it would stay that way. They won't change their behavior, and if they're in separate classes then they're just annoying two different teachers instead of just Ms Ribble suffering, so I think Krupp would eventually put them back into the same class._

* * *

He didn't get it. By now he was used to that feeling of course, of being out of the loop while everyone else laughed at...something. But this time seemed different. He couldn't put his finger on it, though, and wondered at it as he walked back into the classroom from lunch.

Where there was once a relatively quiet room, half filled as students trickled back in from the cafeteria, it now seemed filled with laughter, muffled and unmuffled, as soon as he walked in.

Disturbed for a reason he still could not name, he swiped a comic off of an empty desk, and read it over hoping to find answers. Scanning through the story, he raised a brow as he found nothing illuminating or explanatory. Truthfully, he found the story somewhat depressing: as a kid who was clearly just trying to uphold order was beat up by Captain Underpants. He stared at the cover of the comic a moment longer, puzzled. This seemed unlike George and Harold's usual idiotic fare.

He was so bothered by it, in fact, that he confronted the two before class started, approaching their desks as soon as they walked back into the classroom.

George and Harold tensed as they noticed Melvin coming towards them, comic in hand.

"This is certainly a step down, even for your usual inane writing". He criticized, lightly tossing the comic down on George's desk. George and Harold stared at him, confused. They had been prepared for the usual angry yelling. Like Ms Ribble, or Mr Krupp, the usual 'how dare you make fun of me like this! Blah blah blah respect!'. They were ready for the typical full on screaming and immediate threats of detention, especially considering that it was Melvin, who was probably the biggest tattler in the history of ever. They were not remotely prepared for how calm he was.

"What?" George asked out loud in response, not sure what else to say.

Melvin rolled his eyes, in his usual 'you're an idiot' way, but that still wasn't the reaction that the two boys had been expecting.

"This comic. It seems even more poorly written than your normal shlok. If you were going for a tragic yet sympathetic anti-hero, you greatly missed the mark".

George and Harold exchanged glances, not really knowing what the genius was talking about.

"_That's _what you're upset about?", asked Harold, "Not the-" he was muffled as George slapped his hands over his mouth, stopping him from saying something that might ruin the relatively good thing they had going here.

"Oh, yeeeeeah, yeah," added George instead, still keeping Harold's mouth covered, "You know, that's a really good note, Melvin. We'll, uh, keep it in mind." Fortunately at that moment Ms Ribble walked back into the room, and George felt like it was finally safe to uncover Harold's mouth. "Well, looks like class will be starting soon, you better get back to your desk".

Melvin gave him a confused and critical glare, but did go back to his desk. Class started as normal, but George paid no attention, instead thinking over what he realized was an amazing discovery.

"He doesn't get that the comic is about him" George whispered, mostly to himself. Leaning over to grab Harold by the shoulders, he quietly shook him slightly as he softly exclaimed, "Harold, do you realize what this means?"

Harold thought it over, and then crossed his arms, saying studiously, "He can't take to heart the invaluable life advice we've given?"

Letting go of Harold, George leaned back in his own chair, considering that. "What? Well, yeah, that too I guess. More importantly, it means that Melvin is a get-out-of-jail-free comic card."

"Ohhh" agreed Harold, before immediately adding, "Yeah I don't get it".

"Neither does Melvin" said George, mind already thinking of all the ways this could work for them, "We can make as many comics about him as we want, and he won't get upset. He _can't _be upset by it. Like, just now, he didn't even yell at us like all of the teachers always do. So, if the heat is on us from some teacher but we still need inspiration for a comic..."

"Ohhh," said Harold genuinely this time, as George's idea clicked, "I think I smell what you're stepping in now".

"Harold, ew" he laughed, giving Harold a light shove.

"Boys" snapped Ms Ribble, and all eyes turned to George and Harold, "Is there something interesting that you'd like to share with the rest of the class?"

George looked over to where Melvin was giving them an annoyed glare, no doubt because they were interrupting his precious learning, and couldn't help but smile to himself. "No, Ms Ribble. Nothing at all" he replied, surprisingly compliant for once. The teacher was taken aback by that for a moment, but decided not to jinx this one small miracle.

"Good" she muttered, and then returned to the lesson.

* * *

This fic is the result of reading The Bionic Booger Boy directly after rewatching the movie. It's really interesting to see how the two Melvins react to being made fun of in a comic. Book is immediately ticked off like "Imma turn myself into a cyborg and show you George and Harold mwah ha ha!", but then there's Movie, who doesn't even realize that he is being made fun of. Some of those kids in the cafeteria were probably laughing at him, and he just has no idea. Plus no one tries to explain it to him, either. The thought just kinda stuck with me, so here we are now.

R&R, and I'll see you next chapter.


	2. Chapter 2

_Wow, I'm actually updating a story in a timely manner? *gasp* _

* * *

Over the following month or so, Melvin had the growing feeling that there was something very off. He did a mental survey of the school, trying to place what was so wrong. The cafeteria food was as inedible as ever (it was a good thing he brought his lunch). Mr Krupp had been weirdly happier, but that had been going on for a while now, so he didn't think that that was it.

The teachers were much the same, although they still didn't have a permanent science teacher. And he had been doing his usual damage control of George and Harold's immature pranks.

Of course, that brought to mind George and Harold, which brought to mind their ubiquitous comic books, that Melvin still read despite himself. Maybe it was as simple a change as that which had the school feeling different? They had, he mused, had something of a change in style of late. For whatever reason it seemed like they were doing more sympathetic villains than normal. Around every third issue, Melvin had found himself empathising with the comic's antagonist. It definitely was a strange angle coming from the two delinquents, who's storytelling usually didn't go more complex than a giant monster that was then defeated in the most immature fashion possible by that underwear-clad freak that they considered a hero.

The comic of the day seemed to reinforce this theory. The story this time was about a scientist who (rightfully, to Melvin's eyes) attempted to get back at the illiterates who had cruelly mocked him and his work, only for him to be beaten by Captain Underpants. Laughter seemed to follow him down the halls as he walked and read, but he couldn't understand what everyone was laughing _at_.

He once again had the disquieting feeling that there was something different about this laughter. It seemed more pervasive than it had before, appearing to constantly follow him no matter where he went in the school. It was getting on his last nerve. Everyone's laughter at comics that didn't even make any sense was always obnoxious, but now it was even more so. In the back of his mind he wondered if this was what was so off about the school: that the student body had somehow become more annoyingly immature.

It was when he rounded the corner, only to be met by a wave of apparently everyone in the hallway but him laughing at the same joke that he finally broke."What is so funny?!" he shouted at a group of kindergartners that were huddled together in the hall, predictably laughing over a comic book that he had read cover to cover multiple times already and had discovered nothing.

But this time, he actually got an answer, instead of just dismissal and continued irritating laughter. "You are, silly" replied one of them with a straightforwardness only a five year old who knew no fear or shame was capable of.

"I- what? What do mean _I am_?" he replied with a strangled yell, his voice choked slightly with a terrifying suspicion filling his chest.

The other kindergartners discreetly fled, leaving their naive friend to explain on his own. "Well, see?" he said, opening up the comic to a page and pointing to the panels as he explained, "This guy is you, right?" Melvin was going to protest, that "of course that's not me", but looking closer at the panel the younger boy pointed to, he realized with a sinking feeling that between the argyle, glasses, and orange hair the scientist _did _resemble himself. He briefly wondered, embarrassed, how a person of his intellect hadn't noticed that detail before.

The kindergartner continued with his "lesson" to the confused fourth grader, "So the scientist, like, thinks he's super smarterer than everyone else and is mean and a, um, what's the word, um killjoy, and that's not cool. So then Captain Underpants beats him and a lot of funny stuff happens to him 'cause he thinks he's really smart but he's actually not". He read back through his favorite panels, giggling to himself at the jokes.

Melvin felt a growing horror as he finally understood what had been so off about the laughter at these comics. It didn't just _seem _like people were laughing more around him, they _were _laughing more around him. "Do you mean that everyone's been laughing _at me_?" he asked the kindergartner, aghast.

The five year old looked up from the comic and blinked at him innocently, replying, "Yeah?"

His horror quickly turned to rage as he processed what all of this meant. Those comics had been _mocking him_. All of that laughter had been little barbs of disrespect thrown at him. As his expression became steadily stormier, the kindergartner finally decided that this was a good time to retreat. Melvin was now left alone in the halls, the comic in his hand getting more and more crumpled as he clenched his fist tighter and tighter.

As he continued on his way back to the classroom, still clutching the book in his hand, he was acutely aware of every giggle, guffaw, and snicker that followed him down the hall. With no way to know what the jokes were, he was left to assume that all of them were about him. He wondered how many times this had happened before. Was he being made fun of _every _time something set off a case of the giggles across the school? He didn't know, and the fact that he couldn't ever know for sure had him feeling more and more paranoid as he thought back to every other time when the whole school but him seemed to be laughing at the same joke. There was a distinct possibility that every single laugh was at his expense, for all that he knew, and it made him steadily angrier and more anxious the more he thought about it.

As he entered the classroom, he glared darkly around the room when he was met with a number of muffled giggles. Now it was more than just vaguely annoying, instead every laugh made him a little madder.

His glare lingered on George and Harold, sat next to each other in the back of the room and talking animatedly with some of their 'fans'. George and Harold had made him an open joke to the whole school, the whole school except for himself, of course. Well, he thought darkly, they wouldn't get away with that. Melvin Sneedly would not be a joke. He considered for a moment simply telling on them, and leaving them to the mercy of Mr Krupp.

But, he decided with a growing, slightly maniacal, grin, he had a better idea. Mr Krupp had been going softer on the two lately for reasons Melvin did not understand, anyway. This time, he was going to get his own revenge on the insipid creators of these horrible mocking comic books.

So, let the school laugh. He had an idea for a couple of new punch lines for them. (Er, theoretically, anyway. He didn't actually know how punchlines worked. This was probably it, though.)

(Anyway.)

Let's see how George and Harold like it.

* * *

_This was a fun chapter to write. Because, thinking about if you literally could not understand humor, how would that affect how you saw parody? Clearly Melvin in the movie does not realize that "Anti-Humor Boy" is supposed to be him. So, if you don't realize a parody for what it is, aren't you just left with a character you relate to? _

_Anyway, hope you liked. R&R, see you next chapter. _


	3. Chapter 3

The next day, Melvin walked into school with a completely innocuous water bottle, which also happened to be the product of a long afternoon and night's work in his room-slash-lab. He gently tossed the container from hand to hand throughout the day, waiting for an opportune time to distribute its contents to George and Harold without them knowing it was him. For his message to get across, the two of them needed to be completely in the dark about why the following events were about to unfold.

He got his chance at lunch, when George and Harold conveniently left their lunches unattended. Quickly he put a couple of drops on each of their trays of food, then went back to his own table, leaning back in his chair and grinning smugly to himself to watch the show unfold.

When George and Harold got back to their classroom, they were immediately met with roaring laughter from the room's occupants. George couldn't say that he knew what everyone was laughing at, but in _this _school, unexplained laughter was always a better alternative to the usual misery. Leaning on a desk, he joined in on the laughter, even if he didn't know what was so funny. Harold looked around, confused, but also grinned as everyone else's mirth rubbed off on him.

But eventually even their laughter faded, while the rest of the class continued, apparently still cracking up at the same joke. Confused, George decided to ask, with a slightly forced chuckle, "Haha, yeah, so what's so funny everyone? One of the teachers do something stupid and we missed it?"

He couldn't lie, he was a little annoyed when no one answered his question, and only continued laughing as if they hadn't heard him at all. He glanced towards Harold, silently asking his best friend if he had any ideas. Harold just looked puzzled, and gave him a shrug.

That was the beginning of a very strange pattern that continued for the rest of the day. One minute, normal silence and quiet chatter, the next, everyone was cracking up at the exact same time. It was weird. Normally George loved laughter more than just about anything, but of course he was also usually used to laughing along with people. Being in the dark on what was so funny was a new experience for him. Almost unsettling.

On the way back home from school, he asked Harold, "Did you notice that school today seemed a little..."

"Weird?" finished Harold, and then he nodded, "Yeah. Usually everyone's only that happy from one of our pranks. And we didn't do anything today. Unless" he added, raising a suspicious brow at his best friend, "You did a prank without me".

"Never" replied George solemnly. They both slouched, disappointed to be answerless. Harold pondered the school's behavior.

"Do you think," he proposed excitedly, when he had thought of something, "that maybe everyone's planning a surprise for us? Like, maybe it's something really awesome, and they just don't want us to know about it, but they can't help laughing at how amazing an idea it is"

George considered this seriously. "Well, that does make sense."

"Yeah!" replied Harold, already imagining any number of wonderful surprises the other students could be planning for them, "I bet we walk into school tomorrow and it'll just be all confetti, and cupcakes, and people cheering" he mimicked the sound of a large cheering crowd, and George had to smile at the image.

"You're right. It's probably that".

* * *

_R&R, see you in the next chapter. _


	4. Chapter 4

The next day George and Harold walked into the school acting as casual as possible. Meaning that they were not being casual at all, and were instead glancing from locker to locker, and down halls, expecting a large party at any moment. They were disappointed when they had walked around most of the school, and there was no sign of any surprise. Just the same dim, depressing halls. It was starting to look like their one working theory was wrong. They walked down the main hall towards the cafeteria (they were, for once, early to school, in the hopes that they could catch whatever the surprise was sooner rather than later. But now that there was apparently no surprise, they still weren't going to go to _class_.)

As they turned the corner, they were suddenly met with a bubbling of laughter from a few other early-birds who were wandering the halls. That was wrong. That was so wrong. It was 7:15 AM on a Thursday. They hadn't made a comic or pulled a prank for _at least _a couple of days, and anyone could see that pre-giggles the students in the hall were miserable. Too miserable for random fits of laughter. And yet here they were, howling with laughter as if someone had just prat-falled right in front of them.

_What _panicked Harold internally, _was going on?!_

"Oh no" he cried out loud, "It's happening again!"

"Harold, quick! Let's get out of here" turning away from the spontaneously snickering students, they made a dash for the double doors of the cafeteria.

At first, the two were hopeful, as for a brief moment the room was filled with only the normal silence of tired students at school way too early eating the mockery of food that passed for the school's breakfast. But it didn't last as, once again, all at once the previously quiet and morose students in the room started doubling over from some mystery joke.

Screaming, Harold clapped his hands over his ears and sprinted back out the door, George chasing after him. As he passed through halls with a few scattered students, laughs followed him. Every. Single. Hallway. He never thought he would dislike laughter. He really hadn't thought that that could ever happen. But this was just _not fun_.

It was, he was starting to think, a lot less likable when everyone but you was laughing and you had no idea why or what was going on.

When he finally found a completely empty hall, where a few bulbs flickered and the lockers were even more beat up than in the rest of the school, he leaned against the wall and took deep breaths. George patted him on the back, trying to calm him down. It didn't really work. "WHY?!" cried Harold, gripping his head in his hands and trying not to panic.

After a beat of silence, a moment of dramatic tension one might say, Melvin decided, after having watched them panic in the dark for long enough, that it was a good time to intervene.

"Confused, are we?" he smirked, stepping dramatically out from the very convenient shadows of end of the hall, caused by Mr Krupp's refusal to buy new bulbs.

"Melvin?" they asked simultaneously.

"Look, Melvin. We don't have time for one of your nerd talks right now, alright?" said George, waving him away with one hand and nervously biting his nails on the other, "We're having a serious problem" .

"Yeah" added Harold, who had started to nervously pace the hall. Pausing in his back and forth, he sharply turned towards the nerd and added, "And, anyway, this is a problem that involves laughter, and, you're, you know, Melvin. I don't think you'd be able to help".

Though slightly annoyed at the suggestion that he was clueless and unhelpful, overall he was enjoying their obvious confusion and panic, and relished finally pulling back the sheet, so to speak. Ignoring their attempts to be rid of him, he persisted with a knowing grin, "Oh, I think that I know more than you think. I've been watching you two for a while now…"

"Now that's just creepy" interjected George, and Harold nodded, echoing him with a "definitely creepy".

Gritting his teeth and doing his best to ignore their commentary, he continued with his monologue, "And I've noticed that you still don't seem to realize what's going on. It must be hard, musn't it? To have the whole school laughing at you without you knowing why"

"Wait, everyone's been laughing at _us _this whole time?" responded Harold, looking slightly hurt.

"Yes, they have been. Did you not even realize that?" He asked them, frustrated. He added, muttering to himself, "That throws a bit of a wrench into this whole plan. I had assumed you had at least observed that much".

"What plan? Melvin what did you do?" asked George suspiciously.

"Yeah" added Harold, "Have you been making jokes about us behind our backs? Because that's not cool" he crossed his arms poutily.

George turned to Harold, giving him a confused look, "Dude" he deadpanned, "it's Melvin. He doesn't know how to tell jokes."

"No. I have not been telling any 'jokes'. But I did slip a chemical into your food yesterday that causes involuntary laughter in anyone who sees you"

"You DRUGGED US?!" shouted George, shocked, and looking over his body as if he could visibly see the chemical at work now that he knew it was in him.

"Oh, gross, there's some weird Melvin chemical in me. I ate it gross gross gross" panicked Harold off to the side, scraping at his tongue as if it had been just put into his mouth, and not like he ingested a few drops at lunch the day before.

"Why would you do that?!" accused George, waving his hands dramatically.

"You're being so melodramatic" responded the ginger, rolling his eyes at their overreactions,"It was a perfectly harmless chemical. The effects are temporary and it had no taste anyway" he attempted to turn his monologue back in his pre-planned direction, "And I had a very good reason for doing this, I assure you. I wanted you to get a taste of your own medicine, so to speak".

"We've never drugged anyone!" refuted George, looking offended at the suggestion.

"No I _mean_, I wanted you two to experience what I did because of this" and he swiftly and dramatically pulled out a stapled together book from his backpack and handed it to George. George looked it over, and Harold read through it too, looking over George's shoulder. As far as they could tell, it was just one of their comics (and not one of their better ones either), and they looked up from it to stare at Melvin, still confused, and knowing him well enough to trust that he would give them an answer (and probably way more of an answer than they wanted, too).

With a slightly rehearsed air, as if he had been waiting for this moment, he told them, "These comics have caused the entire student body to laugh at me on numerous occasions, and for a considerable while I was unable to understand why. Well, I still don't entirely, but I know it has something to do with the 'jokes' in these comics. Of course, though, I don't know what any of the jokes are, so it makes it a bit difficult to know what about me everyone finds so funny. Are you getting the picture, yet?"

"Wait, so what George and I have been going through since yesterday," said Harold carefully, trying to put the pieces of what he was saying together, "is what it's like to be _you?_" he shuddered at the thought, "Geez, no wonder you're so...Melvin. This has been so awful".

Still holding the comic George gave a troubled sideways look to the floor, and thought about Melvin's little 'lesson'. "We didn't mean it like that" he said honestly, fidgeting a bit now that he was understanding that his plan hadn't exactly worked out the way he thought, and that Melvin was in fact still being affected by their comics, "We just thought that you wouldn't be hurt by any jokes, since you wouldn't be able to notice them. I mean, it sounded like a real win-win. We make comics and get back at you for doing Melvin things, and you don't have to know about it, you know?"

Melvin crossed his arms, apparently unsatisfied with the explanation. Critically, he replied, "So you thought it was acceptable to mock me while I am physically incapable of understanding that that's what you're doing? That it was better for me to be met with laughter at my expense everywhere I go with no apparent explanation?"

"Welll...when you put it like that it sounds a lot worse. Thinking about it and actually experiencing it are really two completely different things" George defended.

"Yeah, wow. When I think about it" mused Harold aloud, finger stuck studiously under his chin, "These last couple of days have been pretty eye-opening".

"That was the intention" dead-panned Melvin in reply, "Now, does this mean that you'll stop?"

"We'll never stop making comics" replied George,

"Or making jokes" inputted Harold. George nodded in agreement.

Sighing dramatically (sounding more upset than he actually was. He _was _disappointed that his seemingly fool-proof plan hadn't worked, but if Melvin felt like _that _every time they had him as the joke villain in their comics he wasn't sure he wanted to keep doing it. It just didn't feel right, somehow), he reluctantly agreed, "But I guess we can stop putting you in them, sure. So" he ended, with a kind of desperate hopeful look in his eyes, "Does this mean that you'll stop with this laugh spray or whatever?"

Melvin looked satisfied, and nodded with a business-like manner, telling the two comic artists, "The effects should only last for 24 hours. By lunch, everything will go back to normal" under his breath he added, "probably".

To make a long story short, it did.

Except for one small thing. About two weeks later, most of Jerome Horwitz was left scratching their heads when George and Harold passed out a comic that wasn't Captain Underpants.

That alone wasn't entirely unusual, since their true fans knew that Tree House Comix Inc had more than one hero to tell tales about. What had everyone confused was that this was a comic no one had seen before. _Sad Worm _didn't exactly sound like their usual trademark. And when they actually read it, and found a character drama instead of laffs and action, no one knew what to think.

When George was approached about the story, he simply shrugged and replied, "We're experimenting, you know? Good writers don't let themselves get pigeon-holed into a genre".

When Harold was asked he merely gave a secretive grin and told them that "This one was kind of my personal project. I actually helped write this time, too".

As for Melvin, he said very little about his opinion on the debut of _Sad Worm_. Only a passing remark to the comic-creating duo that "It was about time you two wrote something that actually made sense".

Even though they would in no way make this a regular thing (they debated whether they even wanted to make more _Sad Worm _comics), there was a certain good feeling that came with having _everyone_ on the same page.

* * *

_Phew. Welp, that's the end of this story. I hope you liked it. R&R, if you could, reviews also make my day a little better. _


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